Alex on Mars
by Pickwick12
Summary: Alex Drake's life is perfectly written in the lyrics of the song that started it all, David Bowie's Life on Mars. This one-shot is a series of vignettes about the journey of her life from arriving at Fenchurch East to the very end. Includes Alex/Gene.


_It's a god-awful small affair_

_To the girl with the mousy hair_

Alex always thought it would feel different to be shot, that something so important, something that takes life, would feel cataclysmic, as if the whole world would stop the moment the bullet hit.

But everything just goes on, the same noises in the street, the same people passing by, oblivious to her plight. In the end, it's just one bullet and one woman. Does it even matter?

_But her mummy is yelling, "No!"  
>And her daddy has told her to go<em>

She'd always thought if she could have saved them, her life would have been different. If she'd only had parents, maybe she wouldn't have been a failure as a wife. Maybe there wouldn't have been so many times that she wondered if she were failing Molly. Maybe, just maybe, things would've worked out.

But then she sees the face of the man who set the bomb, and nothing she believes is true any more. He's the one who wanted her dead, and everything is out of control.

_But her friend is nowhere to be seen  
>Now she walks through her sunken dream<em>

Evan, her godfather, her hero, is frozen. He can't move, can't rush to take the little girl in his arms as the inferno erases every trace of her parents from the earth. She just stands there, her hand clutching the red balloon that saved her life, all alone.

But there's someone else. There's a big man in a black coat who comes into her worst day and changes it forever. He's the opposite of frozen. He's a fire to melt away her fears.

_To the seat with the clearest view  
>And she's hooked to the silver screen<em>

Didn't Sam say the tv was some kind of window into reality? Why won't it show her what she wants to see? All she ever seems to get are disconnected images. And Gene Hunt. Lots of Gene Hunt.

But what she doesn't realize is that you don't always get what you want, and sometimes you have absolutely no idea what you need.

_But the film is a saddening bore  
>For she's lived it ten times or more<em>

She's home. She sees Molly. She does her job. Everything is back to normal. She's the old Alex Drake, in her suits, with her phone, on top of things.

But why doesn't it work any more? Why can't she fit in? Why do the eyes of Gene Hunt still seem to follow her everywhere? Home isn't home any more.

_She could spit in the eyes of fools  
>As they ask her to focus on<em>

Fools. This world is full of fools, from the good-natured Chris to the Guv with his iron grip on flawed authority. Alex wants to help them. After all, didn't she somehow create them? They need her; she's sure of it, these constructs with their stupid clothes and silly beliefs.

But sometimes you don't know, until the very end, that you've focused on the wrong thing entirely. Sometimes you don't realize you're looking at the back of something until somebody turns you around.

_Sailors fighting in the dance hall  
>Oh man! Look at those cavemen go<em>

She finally lets them stamp her bum, the cretins. A girl has to get what she wants somehow. It's about survival, getting back. It's about fighting the tide of belief that threatens to take her over and make her sure this place is real.

But how can you become part of a team that doesn't exist? She fights the filial feelings, but they win. She can't manage to hate them.

_It's the freakiest show  
>Take a look at the lawman<em>

Gene Hunt is too much. He's too big, too loud, too aggressive. Sometimes she feels like a drop of water throwing itself against a brick wall. She can't get through him, and she can't get through to him.

But brick walls are awfully solid. If you hang onto them, she finds, you won't get knocked over no matter what.

_Beating up the wrong guy  
>Oh man! Wonder if he'll ever know<em>

She hadn't realized the 1980's were like _this_, filled with chaos and protests and policing that belongs in the 50's. She'd always thought it wasn't all that different, the decade of her childhood. She had no idea how wrong it all was.

But she's the one who ends up on top of a tank, yelling her lungs out. She's the one who uses them all to save the unsavable. She's the one who fails. Maybe, after all, they know something she doesn't.

_He's in the best selling show  
>Is there life on Mars?<em>

If she were dead, would she be able to feel? Sam Tyler talked about that, she remembers, before he hurled his body off a building. Sometimes she can't help doubting, in the seemingly endless daily drudgery. Maybe she's dead and this is all there is.

But then she hears them, the voices. They've found Molly's mum. And Alex hopes once again.

_It's on America's tortured brow  
>That Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow<em>

She never expected this. She never thought she'd want to get back there. How is it even possible? The thing that's kept her going all this time is the knowledge that there's something real waiting for her.

But the colors are all wrong. The real world is in faded shades of gray, and finally she's able to understand Sam Tyler, because she can't remember where she's supposed to be any more.

_Now the workers have struck for fame  
>Because Lennon's on sale again<em>

She wants to feel disappointed. She should feel disappointed as her dream of going home is dashed by a hard slap and a waking up.

But she's glad, and that scares her more than anything. The relief she feels when she sees Gene Hunt's face is scarier than death itself. She wonders, if you get lost in a world of your own making, do you lose all hope of ever getting back?

_See the mice in their million hordes  
>From Ibeza to the Norfolk Broads<em>

Nobody quits Fenchurch East. Alex hasn't ever let herself think about it, because it's the only thing in this world that makes even the slightest bit of sense. It's Fenchurch or nothingness.

But suddenly Shaz wants to quit, and everything feels uncertain. Alex needs her to stay, more than she needs almost anything else. She can't even face what will happen if things change.

_Rule Britannia is out of bounds  
>To my mother, my dog, and clowns<em>

She understands now, understands her mother and her father, even Pete, the father of her daughter. Now that she knows the name of the clown, there's not much left to understand. So she throws herself into a leather jacket and a bloody face, hoping it will all make sense.

But sometimes a grave is as much a beginning as an ending, and someone else's memory is the thing you're meant to find instead of your own.

_But the film is a saddening bore  
>Because I wrote it ten times or more<em>

Some days it seems like everything is normal. Crimes and protests come and go, and she puts on red lipstick and tight jeans. Maybe this is where she's meant to stay. She even feels like they might be her friends now, constructs or not.

But there are stars, and the stars won't let her believe it's all about the here and now.

_It's about to be writ again  
>As I ask you to focus on<em>

Something about it is familiar, déjà vu, as if she's not the first to make this journey, to uncover this grave, to remind the broken man before her that he's both more and less than anyone realizes. This place makes you forget. Alex won't let herself forget, because a little girl with a scarf is waiting. She can't let herself be swallowed up in limbo.

But what she can't let herself consider is that when it's all said and done, it might not be about the fighting. It might be about the letting go.

_Sailors fighting in the dance hall  
>Oh man! Look at those cavemen go<em>

Maybe it's a mercy that she doesn't see their faces when they finally realize, when the cold metal of painful memory stabs them back to reality. She might not be able to handle it when her constructs finally know how real they are.

But it's the one who takes it the worst who recovers the quickest. It's Shaz who first realizes that when you've finally been healed, it's time to go.

_It's the freakiest show  
>Take a look at the lawman<em>

The unassuming man with the little glasses unsettles Alex. His smooth tongue and pat answers give her the same feeling she used to get from her pervert neighbor. Somehow, though, he always keeps her listening, with his promises and tantalizing pieces of evidence. Somehow he always knows what to say.

But the answer is not found in hearing what you want to hear, and Alex finally knows that. In the nick of time, she chooses the sandpaper over the velvet, because sandpaper is what makes things smooth in the end, and that's the real point of it all.

_Beating up the wrong guy  
>Oh man! Wonder if he'll ever know<em>

It's the most ironic thing she's ever known. The woman who became a psychologist because she wanted to understand so badly finally knows how wrong she's been about everything. And she doesn't even care because the knowing is such a relief.

But knowledge is healing, and healing means moving on. Healing means leaving. A drink in a pub and a step into eternity.

_He's in the best selling show  
>Is there life on Mars?<em>

How can the most vivid existence be devoid of life? She looks at Gene Hunt, and he's the realest person she's ever known.

But there's no life on Mars, and it doesn't matter. That was never the point. What matters is love, and when you're filled with it, you can no longer stay behind. So she turns to go, and the only thing that pushes her inside the pub is the knowledge that some day, the man behind her will be filled to the brim and finally healed.


End file.
